Rhume
by Cheval de la Nuit
Summary: Dormitory 17: A sequel to Silver...
1. Default Chapter

Phillipe sighed as he reached the dock. He had made it this far without getting caught. One quick leap and he was on the edge of a large ship that was at shore for repair. Hiding among the rotting timbers, the boy was able to get a good view of Le Vainqueur. The old ship was almost seaworthy again. It had arrived at Toulon in complete disrepair after a heavy storm.  
  
Honoré, Phillipe's father, had worked on the ship since it first came to port. Smiling, the boy easily picked out his father's form among the others. Though the hard labour had bent his back, he still stood a good head taller than the galley slaves and the guards who supervised him. Little did the young boy know now, today would be a day he wished he had been caught for. He heard shouts, though he could only make out the odd curse on the wind. Standing up carefully, he tried to get a better look at the commotion on board. Suddenly, he saw his father straighten, and lay a guard out flat. The other guards swarmed around him like locusts. With an echoing clang, a chisel was brought down on the chains that bound Honoré to the rest of the chain gang. However, his freedom was short lived, he was grabbed by the guards and in one swift movement, was thrown overboard. The water erupted as the man hit the water. White foam ringed his flailing form as he struggled to gain his breath and his balance against his manacles. However, with the tide coming in, and the chains made of iron, is attempts were futile, causing him to soon tire. The moment he saw his father hit the water, Phillipe leapt into in. "Papa!" he called as he swam frantically through the choppy waves. The rough current felt like needles; it was so cold it soon numbed his long legs and arms. Pushing his hair out of his eyes, the boy pushed onward until he had reached the spot where he saw his father sink. A cry from overhead distracted him.  
  
"You there, what do you think you are doing?"  
  
"He..he is drowning!"  
  
"He is already dead" the guard snickered in reply.  
  
Phillipe felt his body grow colder than the water he was struggling to stay afloat in. At the startled look the boy gave, the guard gave sharp laugh, roughened by brandy.  
  
"He fell overboard.." He took another large gulp of the drink. "There was nothing we could do"  
  
"You LIE! I saw it, he was pushed overboard"  
  
A musket clicked, and its barrel was soon aimed at the boy, who was treading water at point blank. At the accusation, the guard's face reddened with fury, and he gestured with the weapon as he spoke.  
  
"You swim back to shore at once! Unless, of course...You'd rather join that gypsy vermin."  
  
Realizing that the guard spoke with all truth, Phillipe turned back to the shore, his eyes stinging, though he knew it wasn't from the sea. The swim back seemed to take months. There was no will left in the boy's numbed limbs as he dragged himself through the bitter currents and back across to the dock. Once ashore, he used everything left in his frail body to trudge back to the cell where his mother would return to soon. Pushing open the heavy iron door, he crawled into the threadbare cot, too stunned to think or feel, though his head was pounding, and he shivered like a cur. 


	2. 2

"Phillipe" he heard his name being called. Who was it? Was it his Mother? How was he to tell her?  
  
"Phillipe, wake up" he heard as a hand touched his shoulder. Phillipe opened his eyes to see Luc face standing over him.  
  
"What?" he mumbled groggily.  
  
"You were yelling in your sleep, woke us all up" Louis piped up from his spot on the top bunk.  
  
"Are you all right? I'd hate to think the food was that bad" Antoine drawled, but his friends could see the worry in his face.  
  
Phillipe shrugged. "Yes, it was just a dream" he said, blinking back the tears that had formed in his eyes.  
  
"It must have been a nightmare, a few more seconds and you would have woken up the school." Luc said, as he handed his friend a glass of water, which Phillipe took gratefully.  
  
"Bah, Luc, who gives water? Want me to steal a midnight snack for you? I hear hunger can give you bad dreams" Antoine inquired, grinning as he ducked the pillow thrown at him.  
  
"There will be no sneaking food Gautier, or my wrath will give you nightmares!" Phillipe said in a lofty tone, now grinning. Among his friends, he was feeling more calm.  
  
Antoine laughed, running his fingers through his curly blond hair. "I'll wager you gave that blaggard Dupre nightmares, it was a shame to hold you back" he retorted.  
  
Louis smiled. "I wonder if he is still there" he asked in an amused tone.  
  
"Hopefully he is, may he grow like an onion with his head in the ground" Luc said, his face growing hard.  
  
"So what were you dreaming, Phillipe? It may help to talk about it" Louis asked, placing his owl like glasses on.  
  
Phillipe inwardly shuddered, he had hinted to his background but for the most part, had left most of it a secret.  
  
Antoine suddenly spoke up. "I know what he dreamt, it's his big secret" he said in a cruel tone. Phillipe bit his lip as he put his glass down, what had he been yelling? His first friends, what was going to happen? What would they think? Luc and Louis looked interested.  
  
"And that would be." Louis said, yawning.  
  
"Phillipe didn't shine his shoes enough last night since he had too much work and he dreamed he got caught" he said in a wicked tone, as the room laughed. Phillipe's terror of being in any sort of trouble was well known. Phillipe joined in the laughter eagerly.  
  
"Guilty as charged" he retorted.  
  
"We have math at eight, we had better gay shlofin, I mean get to sleep" Luc said, giving an enormous yawn, reverting into his native Yiddish language when not thinking.  
  
"What a bore, becoming another Phillipe" Antoine grumbled as he climbed back to his bunk.  
  
"I heard that" Luc and Phillipe said together, which brought more laughter to the room. Even Luc chuckled a bit, as he turned down the lamp and climbed up to his bunk. Phillipe lay back happily. He wasn't in Toulon, he was here, happy and cared for; he had to forget the past, haunting him still. He had to stay in this oasis as long as possible before returning to the desert, which would come soon enough. With that, he closed his eyes and tried to get some rest. What was it Saint-Just once said? That those who wish to make change must sleep only in the tomb, he thought ominously, before falling into deep slumber. 


End file.
